Rewrite - Different Paths, Different People
by LilyHellsing
Summary: REWRITE! IMPROVED! Samantha Ivy leaves her fallen family simply because her tongue slipped. While she travels with Mr. Crepsley as his assistant, she can't help but feel as though she took someone's place. But it's just a fleeting feeling. Really she should be focusing on what the Vampaneze want, how to adjust to the vampire life, or why it becomes hard to breathe near Crepsley...
1. Chapter 1

Hi all! So I saw the movie Cirque du Freak on Syfy…then after remembering how awful it was, I re-read some old fanfics (and plan on re-reading the book series soon). And when I got to "Different Paths, Different People"…I got all giddy even though it was my own story that I was reading, haha! But I noticed several things…like grammar, spelling, and, more importantly, plot. I feel like so much of it was rushed or condensed…

So I have decided to re-write it but REALLY write it! Really make it novel size! I hope that's interesting to y'all because I want to expand on characters (both my own and not) as well as improve some of the plotholes (i.e. the arranged marriage…). Or by not being so blunt (like the romance with Crepsley and Sam, haha). Also I plan on altering some things just completely…because I re-read some parts and just stared going, "Uuuuuhhhh…where the HELL was I going with THAT?!" Lol.

With that being said, I hope I keep your attention and maybe even gain some new readers, for I'll be pouring my heart and soul into this!

* * *

I don't even know how it happened. Ok, no, that's a lie. I know how it happened but sometimes, like now, I feel like it was all just by random chance. Did I really have a choice? Was I really that foolish and impulsive?

Uh…well, I was sixteen at the time. So…technically, _duh_! I was sixteen and thought the world, not "my" world, but _the _world was caving in around me. How sad to realize years later that it wasn't really the sky falling on my head…just the ceiling.

But look where it got me! Away from my family, my friends, my school, my home…and into the arms of a circus of freaks. Well, to make it sound fancier to the common folk, they called it _Cirque du Freak_…but come on; a freak is a freak no matter the language. They are exotic, period.

Not that I don't like the circus…or the vampire that became my Maker. In fact, quite the opposite! I really like the "freaks" I travel with…and the vampire, eh, he's not bad. So long as I don't interrupt his beauty sleep, he tends to be really chill. Alas, they are no substitute for what I had lost.

I guess I'm at that stage in life where I start realizing that there isn't a defined Beginning and End…it's just a blur, all of it. There isn't Black and White, but, like, fifty shades of grey (and let me tell you, pretending to read that in front of the vampire makes him shift uncomfortably and shut right the heck up!). But seriously, there is no Gain and Loss in such strict, defined terms…it's more of…well…I don't know. I guess that's the part where I'm at.

Naturally speaking about ends and starts, defined or not, has got me thinking of the past few years. Where to start? Well…let's start at the part that I call "Makings of a Bridge".

That is, when I first met the vampire, Mr. Larten Crepsley. I was sixteen years old and I was with my two best friends, Darren Shan and Steve Leopard. And I had stupidly opened my mouth to challenge them to a race…

* * *

"Did you finish the history paper?" We three walked through the streets at a casual pace. It was myself, Steve, and Darren. I had known the two since about first grade; at that time, they came in a pair, having befriended each other in kindergarten. Despite having "cooties" for the first few months, being a girl and all, the two took to me like a fish to water. Ok, maybe I took to them first…and subsequently wouldn't stop following them around until they let me play with them. Same difference.

Steve snorted as he stretched his arms in the sky, "Do I ever even do the reading, let alone the papers?"

I smacked his forearm and smirked. "I know, that's why I was asking Darren, dork."

Darren looked over just as Steve smacked me back. I was, in a sense, one of the boys. "Yeah, I finished it last night…I'm not sure if I had all the sources though." In the meanwhile, I had given Steve a playful shove…to which he did right back, creating the domino effect of me slamming into Darren. Not to be outdone, Darren shoved back and lo and behold, a human ping pong ball I became!

After about the first few yards of this, I finally stopped walking and couldn't stop laughing. "Alright guys, quit your shit! I'm gonna end up slamming into a fence or something stupid because someone's aim is bad." There was no basis to this, especially when the guys played soccer, but it certainly got them up to defend their pride!

"Hey, that wouldn't be me!"

"I never miss!"

I still laughed at their overlapping protests, regaining my balance as I did. When I looked back up, I noticed a sort of softness flash across Steve's eyes. That had happened before…as to why, I was clueless, but I knew I saw it. I pushed my blond bangs from my eyes, adjusting my backwards blue hat to keep them away. When I started to move again, the wind blew across the road and filled the area with the scent of grass. Ahh grass…it smelt lovely, and looked better when it was being ran on.

Suddenly an idea came to mind. "Hey guys." My green eyes darted between them both. "Last one to Baker Street plays soccer on Alan's team!" And despite being sixteen, we three sprinted like we were ten once more.

My well used tennis shoes were both a help and a hindrance. While they were certainly comfortable enough to run in, they weren't quite as strong as they once were for sharp turns. And I knew that if I fell or skid again in these brown capri pants, I'd rip them up for sure.

Despite having the last name of Ivy, my family was anything but wealthy. We scraped by on a single income source for our household. Being a tomboy to me saved money – have you _seen _the price of a stick of eyeliner lately? – although my mother would disagree. Conscious of these things in the back of my head, I took a left into an alley.

As I started down the less sharp path (ok, maybe it was a shortcut), I looked over my shoulder. Good, no one was following! Yet as I turned around, I found myself slamming into something similar to a wall, but warm, and flew back.

There was the sound of a slight rip – so much for my genius plan of taking care of my clothes – and a grunt from me as I hit the loose gravel. Once I stopped moving, I looked up with a grimace and snarled, "Hey, the hell man?! Watch it!" Yup, dude looks like a lady. Talks like one too.

The body before me turned to face me as if I had been just a mere fly. Imagine! A hand was offered though, the man's voice pleasant and polite enough with just a sharpness to the edge. It was certainly something I hadn't heard before…it wasn't a restrained sort of sharpness, just one that demanded something like respect. "I believe it was both of our eyes that failed to see one another."

He was so calm that I felt my peak of rage drop. I reached out without thinking and took his hand, brushing off my butt when he helped me up. "I guess…sorry." I muttered, a bit embarrassed at how I had went off on the guy. After looking up and studying the man who was a good foot taller than me, I paused. "You…aren't from here are you?" I would have definitely remembered seeing orange hair…and…and a scar. Yikes, that looked painful!

The man's eyes held a mischievous glint to them – proof that you could be old but still be young! "Do you not have a race to win, young lady?" His hand had extended out once more but this time it held a piece of bright green paper.

"Oh! Yeah!" With adrenaline kicking back in and the task at hand again, I grabbed the flyer without thinking and took off. Damned if I would be playing on Uncoordinated Alan's team!

As I jumped out of the alley and back to the outside world once more, I started to laugh. I could hear Steve's cursing and Darren's panting from behind me. They weren't too far behind, but enough to consider me a victor! Spotting the street sign, I cackled and jumped up, my hand wrapping around the pole as I spun around it. "I WIN!" I all but shouted, holding on tight as my body wrapped itself around the pole. Without having meant to and with gravity have taken care of it, I was hugging the pole like a drunk. "You're both last! You're both on Alan's team, ha!"

Before I could start doing my victory dance, failing to notice that sort of light, soft flash over Steve's eyes again, Darren spoke up. "What do you have there?" He pointed to my hand, the one that around the pole.

I looked down and uncrumbled the flyer as much as I could. Maybe it was my lucky token since I won the race. "I dunno, some weirdo I ran into in the alley gave it to me." A skip of silence. "Uh. Wait. No that sounded really wrong."

Before jokes could be made, however, we three stared down and fell silent.

**Cirque du Freak**

* * *

A/N: I upped the age for the characters in order to make better sense and reason for Sam's issues throughout the story. Again, I hope you enjoyed the re-write and will continue to enjoy each chapter that I post, new and improved!


	2. Chapter 2

"Wait, and some guy in the alley gave you this?" Steve asked to confirm, a deep frown on his face. It wasn't that he was upset about the flyer exactly, but rather the fact that a stranger, clearly someone who wasn't of that small town, was handing stuff out. "I want to see this."

"What, do you think I'm lying?" I scoffed and gave a sharp yank to the back of my hat, fixing it so that my bangs were just over my eyes. "If I had some mad art skills for this, I wouldn't be playing soccer all day." Nevertheless where Steve went, Darren and I followed. As we moved, something occurred to me. "He helped me up after I literally ran into him and reminded me that I had the race to win – looks like you owe him a swift kick in the ass, otherwise I would have lost!" My laughter lightened the mood for I could see Darren grin and Steve's walk slow a bit. As unpredictable as he could be at times, I was a bit proud that I could read his body language usually.

When we three got to the alley, we stared in for a long moment. Despite it being day with the sun shining and winking at us, no one really wanted to go into the dim slab of space. Of course perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the flyer we had, the Cirque du Freak, meant that he was part of it…and therefore a freak. But besides a scar on his face and his hair being as ridiculous as the fruit, I couldn't quite figure what made him a freak. Maybe it was just a marketing position…yeah, maybe he was an intern or something.

With that thought taking off the edge, I stepped in and turned around to face the boys. "Well, he _was _here." I turned back around and looked around, not thinking he had shrunk or anything but more for some sort of proof. "Let's see…oh, there! That's where I ran into him and skidded into the loose gravel." I nodded at the area that showed a total wipe out.

Steve walked after me first, Darren lagging behind. I shot him a quizzical glance to which Darren muttered, "I dunno…gut feeling."

When I felt Steve's warm body next to me, he snorted. "Clumsy."

"Hey, this clumsy ass beat yours to the street sign! What does _that _say?!" I elbowed him in the side before walking Darren out of the alley. "Anyway," I must have had a shit eating grin on my face, "we have the flyer…and you have Alan as a teammate. Let's call it a day, it's dinner time!"

After a quick round of byes, as well as a plan to meet up tomorrow at noon for said soccer game, I went to call it quits. Darren left but Steve lingered, following me after a few steps until I felt a tug on my arm. "Hey?" I looked over at him, a bit startled from the look in his eyes. My hand went to my neck, rubbing the back softly and completely oblivious to my own body language.

"Would…you like to uh…go grab a burger at the old DQ?" He seemed twice as nervous as I felt even though he'd never admit it. Well, hell, neither would I. I had known this guy since we were six…a decade later and here we are now. He and Darren treated me like one of the guys and lord knows I behaved and dressed like one – must to my mother's everlasting annoyance. So why was he nervous now? Why was I?

Shifting to my other foot, I went to speak…but felt like…we were being watched. The sun was starting to sink so I couldn't see into the new forming shadows, but I definitely felt it. Just like Darren's "gut feelings", I learned to trust some instincts of my own long ago. Turning back to look at Steve, I shook my head. "Sorry, I'm flat broke. Raincheck it to next week?" Wait, why would he ask me and not Darren? "There a reason for craving cow suddenly?" I tried to pull off my curiosity by adding a smile but even then that looked awkward.

Steve would have hid his disappointment well…from anyone but me. His shoulders slacked for a moment before he pulled them up, standing straight to compensate. Even his jaw had slacked before he took on the usual over-confident Steve Leopard mask. "I…just wanted to look at the flyer a bit more."

"Oh!" I had forgotten the flyer and therefore when he brought it up, forgot all about how his answer was a load of crap. Digging it out of my pocket, I held it out, "Here…you keep it tonight. I don't think my family would be happy if they found it somehow. I don't think Jamie," my sister, "would look through my stuff, but mom might. I swear she's expecting me to come home with cigarettes one day and blame you and Darren." I finished it off with a laugh but even that felt weird in my throat. Mom wouldn't blame Darren and Steve, just Steve and we both knew it.

Still, he took the paper and folded it back up into his own pocket. "Alright well…I'll see you at school tomorrow. We'll have to tell Alan and Tommy about this show!" There was at least a light that came back into his eyes at the mention of the show.

Grinning without any weirdness once more, I waved as he took off and followed suit. As I started down the road to my house, I shivered. It was fall, yeah, but nowhere near that chilly yet. When I looked around, again allowing my body to react when my mind couldn't, I saw a shadow move…or was it a tree branch? Swallowing thickly, I walked a bit quicker, my heart mimicking the speed of my feet. Within minutes I had broken into a full sprint, feeling as though the shadows – or whatever they hid – were keeping up with me.

When I got to my house, I knew the door open, spun around inside, and slammed it shut before locking it. My heart started to calm, my body starting to relax…I was safe in this house. Yes.

It may not be much, but it was protection. I finally let go of the locks and stepped back, tossing my hat off to the counter, avoiding the broken edge of the wooden table that we had gotten at a yard sale. "Hey, I'm home." I called out, heading to the living room. That was, after all, where my dad spent most of his time. Plus I heard the television on low. "Anyone gonna answer me back?" For a brief fleeting moment, I imagined that there would be no one in the house, no one in the living room…that I was alone, that my family had just…disappeared.

The irrational fear was proved to be just that when I poked my head in and saw…my dad on the couch. Whew! "Hey dad, what are you up to?" The man before me had his leg, or what was left of it, on the foot rest of the couch. A few years back, due to an accident at the job, he lost it…as well as the job. The sleazy company managed to get away with saying that it was an accident that _he_ could have prevented, that it was _his_ fault…so there was no compensation. And since my mother was a banker and the only one making an income from then on, we weren't as well off as we once were. Despite the last name being Ivy, sounding all fancy and wealthy, we were far from such.

"Hello Sam." He muttered, his eyes glued to the television. I stared for a moment, catching that something was off. Tone and body language was the complete 180 of how my father usually acted. He was the type that saw the glass half full, a trait that I strived for.

"Um…where's Jamie?" I looked at the coffee table and caught third grade homework from my little sister's class just…there. She had been right in the middle of a math problem too…where did she just up and go to? "Hm," I decided to try and lighten the mood, "the pencil is still warm…someone was here doing her homework for her!" I looked up at my dad with a grin…which fell a bit. He didn't react.

Before I could question it further, for now I was really suspect, my mother's voice rang out from the kitchen. "Samantha, can you come here please?" I grimaced a little. No one called me by my full name, it was always just Sam. Alas, my mother was determined to keep it as Samantha and continuously called me it despite my constant protests. I was a lady, she stated, not some roughhousing boy.

Walking into the kitchen, I spotted my mother at the table with a cup of Earl Grey tea at the table. Originally I had planned to get a soda but at the smell of lemon and tea, I quickly made a shift to the stove where the kettle was. "Hey mom." I muttered as I poured myself a glass. That drove my mother up a wall, I knew, but it was my way for getting back at her using my full name. With a glass, not a tea cup, of Earl Grey in my hand, I plopped into a seat and looked up at her.

With a tight, almost grim look on her face, she swallowed her criticism with her drink. Huh…that only happened when she knew there would be a fight to come, so she didn't want to push tempers quite so early. Uh-oh. "Am…I in trouble or something? Dad looked…I don't know. And where's Jamie?" Once again, my body reacted and became alert when my mind was sluggish.

"There is something we need to discuss."

Snorting softly, another habit that was un-ladylike, I took a sip of the warm drink and nodded. "Well, yes, which makes my question all the more urgent. What did I do now?"

"You've done nothing wrong, Samantha." Talk about a rare order of words put together. "I have news for you. You'll be turning seventeen soon…graduating high school." I nodded, following so far. She continued, "We don't have the money for college." Uh…well…yeah. I had to take a long gulp of tea to keep from expressing my sarcasm and, honestly, annoyance at how she was stalling. Of course we didn't have money for college…we could barely pay the bills. "Yeah? I'll get a job."

My mother scoffed, her usual spark of pride (arrogance?) coming back to life. "You will do no such thing! You are an Ivy and we are a proud line of people. None of the women on my side of the family," the cliché Southern Belles, "ever worked a day in their life."

"You work. You're a banker." I pointed out a bit dryly, my lids lowering just enough to give a dull stare.

"_I_ had no choice…our family has to be provided for and that responsibility had fallen to me to take care of." She pointed out with her feathers ruffled. I didn't mention how my grandparents, her wealthy parents, refused to help us out. Despite the opposite personalities from mom and dad, mom had been disowned from her family (siblings and aunts/uncles included…haughty bunch) for marrying dad, a lowly "poor" man. It was a marriage of love…which always left me in awe I have to admit, since I rarely saw that side of her. "And brush your bangs out of your face! You are not an urchin on the streets, even if you dress like once."

"Mom, they're blue jeans! Women have been wearing them for, like, fifty years or something!" I quickly moved on to keep her from calling me out on my lack of historical knowledge, "And I don't know what you're talking about, I have a choice too…find a job. I don't mind it. I get bored anyway." Okay, maybe that was a lie. I'd rather play soccer or just hang out with Darren and Steve all day, but she didn't need to know that.

My mother let go of her tea cup and nodded. "You are right, you _do _have a choice...and that is what I wanted to talk about. A very old friend of mine has spent the year trying to find a match for her son – he's about twenty now and already working in a company – so she reached out to me." It didn't quite hit me what she was gunning for, I was more distracted by the fact that she still had contact with her uppity old friends. "Her son is already on track for a high management position and therefore quite a large salary. He wants someone to take care of with that salary…so I suggested a marriage between you two."

It took a total of three seconds for me to process what she said, and another three seconds to react. "WHAT?!" I yelped, standing so quick that the chair fell back. "Wait, whoa, hold right up there, what?!" My palms were flat against the table now, my body tense. "Marriage?! With a stranger?! Like, an arranged one?! Um, no!"

"Samantha, this is the chance to get out of here! You'll be taken care of, you can go to college, and you can help support your family now! You need to and will do this and that's final, young lady." Despite my hostile and shocked body language, she merely sat there. Always in control, that one, always concerned about the public eye.

I spluttered, struggling to really understand this. I thought arranged marriages had died out like…decades ago. "Wait, is that why dad was acting so weird?!" Oh god, I realized, he knew and he couldn't look me in the eye because…he knew mother was right. "You sent Jamie to her room so she wouldn't tell me, didn't you?!" Good job self, you notice all this about four pages later in the story. "No! No I refuse to marry someone I haven't even met!"

Occasionally mother would get…well, she'd be a smart ass. Which, hey, I got from her to begin with and could usually appreciate the humor after the fight…but not this time. "Oh good, your only concern is meeting? Then I've got pleasant news that will calm your mind. Your fiancée, Mark, will be coming down for dinner tomorrow night." My heart stopped for a second. It wasn't the fact that she had said "fiancée" or that he was visiting, it was the fact that tomorrow night was…well, the Cirque. Glad to see I had my priorities straight.

"You…you hypocrite, how can you push me into an arranged marriage when you married dad for love?!" I yelped, hitting below the belt pretty quick.

Mother's jaw set and she glared, her voice cool but sharp. "I am trying to prevent you from making the same mistakes I did – though I love your dad and I love my children, I have always wished I had handled the situation differently." What, I thought, and not married the man? "And the marriage will blossom into love…as you said yourself, you haven't even met him, so how do you know you won't love him?"

I stuttered quite loudly for a moment, feeling my brain slowing down and sputter out. Finally I slapped the table and snapped, "No, I refuse to go through with this and you can't make me!" Instead of running out the door, I ran upstairs to my room…then, later, would climb through the window to Steve's. But for now, my room to pack.


	3. Chapter 3

Aaaaaaand new plot to deviate from both the book and my old fanfic!

* * *

I managed to escape Steve's questioning that night by just flopping onto the pallet of blankets he made on the floor and falling asleep. Truthfully I couldn't sleep though, but he backed off once he had a full five minutes of silence from me. When the light was out, thoughts about the marriage came back to haunt me. I wasn't concerned about what we'd tell Steve's mom tomorrow morning before school because, frankly, she was never awake at that time. In fact, though she was awake right now, she was more, uh, "awake" than awake…she was drunk. It made it real simple to just slip in through the front door.

By the time Steve's clock showed it was three in the morning, reality had just started to settle in. My "fiancé" was to come into town tomorrow night…dear god. How was I to get out of that one? Even if I missed dinner or faked being sick, I would still have to marry the man, wouldn't I? Wait, did mother even say when the marriage was?! I groaned at this, unable to believe how big of a loophole I may have just missed. If it was a month, I'd be screwed…but if it was over a year or so, well I could simply start saving money and jump on a train.

Steve had always wanted to run off to Mexico after all and it's safer to travel in pairs. Buddy system and all that.

"You still won't tell me why you showed up on my doorstep?" Steve's sleep-ridden voice rang out so suddenly that I jumped from my makeshift bed.

"Damn it Steve, don't do that! I thought you were asleep!" I sat up and looked over at him, the moonlight peeking through the curtains just enough to let me see his facial features.

My friend sat up as well and looked down at me, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Yeah well, I was until you kept shifting and turning and groaning. What were you doing anyway?" The end of his question sounded suspicious, even insinuating.

My cheeks warmed at his dirty mind and I clung my, er his, pillow at his face. "I was just thinking. And before you ask, no I won't tell you yet. I'm still thinking about it." I hugged my bare knees though, having borrowed some of his pajama shorts for the night. They were so much better than the pink nightgown I had.

Catching the pillow with ease, Steve muttered, "Not that I mind having you here…" When I looked up, he spoke up with the change in topic, "So the Cirque…"

I stared for a moment, my plan suddenly falling into place. "Steve…let's skip school tomorrow…er, today. Sleep in. Maybe go explore the woods or something, like old times." Mother would look for me at school, not in the morning since she would think I had just left the house early, but in the afternoon. She would, I knew, think I'd skip the end or hide afterwards and snatch me before. Little did she know that I was two steps ahead! "Just you and me." The less people who knew, the better. "Then we can grab Darren and go to the show." There, afterwards she would tell her two best friends what had happened…and what, at that moment, she was skipping.

Steve's eyes lit up and it wasn't from the moonlight. "Sure!" He started to rattle on about plans in the woods, of games to play as we waited out the day. Night, he said and I agreed, would be the best part of it all. And I tried so very hard to believe it with my heart.

That evening Darren met up with us outside the theatre on the flyer. Steve and I were a bit sunburnt but nothing too bad…that's what happens when you nap on a field with few trees. No matter! When Darren asked us why we weren't at school, I claimed we were both on our periods and smirked at both the boys' faces scrunching up. "So, ready to see some freaks Shan?!" I punched his arm lightly and bounced on the heels of my worn out tennis shoes.

Something flashed in Darren's eyes before he became nervous, his arm grabbing his forearm and looking away from me. "Um…listen guys…I don't think I should go in." At Steve's noise of protest and my slacking of jaw, he quickly added, "I just have this bad feeling that something's going to happen!"

"Take some Pepto Bismol and get over it. Come on man, this will be lots of fun!" I tried to push him.

Steve added in his two cents, "Alan and Tommy couldn't get out of their house but you did…don't throw that away."

Darren shook his head, a true grimace on his face. "I'm sorry guys but…tell me all about it tomorrow, alright?" He stepped back and walked away. I couldn't help but stand there an extra moment and be sucked into my confusion.

Finally I muttered, "That Shan kid ain't right." It was half a joke really, since he was the goody-two-shoes of we three, but it was also half true. Shaking my head, I looked up at Steve and smiled. "Well, guess it's a date then!" I laughed so hard at the very idea of dating a boy that I missed Steve's facial expression.

Looping my arm around his, we walked up to the ticket booth that was old and locked up. Alas, within twenty minutes of trying to find a way to buy a ticket, we were still ticketless. It was as though a door had been shut in our face! If only I had known what the door stop to that had been, to realize why said "door" had shut. But at the time, I was more pissed that my escape from reality was shoving me away. "Maybe if we go in and show that we have the flyer…?"

Steve snorted and shook his head, kicking the stupid ticket booth once more for good measure. "No…no, I have a better idea. Come on, I saw a broken window on the second floor near the fire escape. Let's just save our money and sneak in!"

Knowing just how hard pressed for money we both were, a huge grin grew on my face. "I dig it! Come on!" It was now dark but with Steve at my side, and the fact that all the freaks were _inside _the theatre and not outside, I felt no fear in running into the dark alley. And apparently neither did the boy who took that as a challenge!

When we got to the fire escape and climbed up carefully, I muttered, "Do you have a flashlight or a lighter or something? I don't think it'll be light inside the part of building we're going into…pretty sure they weren't expecting anyone to use this lovely red carpet entrance." The fire escape, after all, was quite stable. And if we didn't die from the fall of the ladder then we may just end up stabbing ourselves with the broken window. Ah, so many ways to die, how to pick just one!

Steve shook his head and paused at the window. "No…we'll have to just feel around. Here, let me just…" he looked around before punched a part of the window that would have impaled our stomachs. I stared for a moment at how effective it was, at how he had punched it without second thought or injury. "Ladies first."

"But…then we'll miss the show." I smirked at the old joke, crossing my arms. "You be the look in and I'll be the look out." With a light chuckle, Steve slid in and held his hand out for me to join. I mimicked him as best as I could, I gasped only when the broken window tried to steal my backwards cap. When I stood up and looked around, I could hardly see the back of my hand, it was so dark! "Steve?" I whispered, taking a cautious step forward.

A hand was slapped over my mouth, muffling my yelp that I gave to just feel the sensation. My heart skipped a beat and my first thought was how I knew we shouldn't have snuck in, how some freaks had found us, how…how much of a jerk Steve was! "Shh, I'm right here, dork. Come on Sam." It was Steve who had snuck up behind me. With an unseen scowl, I took his hand and followed his hesitant lead.

What felt like half an hour was probably only a few minutes but we could hear the show start. Quickly, we followed the noise all the while my hand was in his. When we stopped, we could see the giant stage bathed in green and other lights. My lips parted in silent awe and I stepped closer to the edge, letting my hand drop from his. It was…it was stunning in an odd way. A creepy way.

Steve quickly sat down at a nearby chair and I followed suit, grinning from ear to ear that we had succeeded. Not only that, but we had balcony seats all to ourselves! I nearly clapped at our accomplishment before remembering we weren't supposed to be there. And in fact, that feeling of "out of place"ness or "not supposed to be there" hit me hard. I almost contemplated going back down and leaving…but to go through that utter, inhuman darkness again by myself…no. It was just the fact that we "broke" in through an already broken window…that was why I felt so wrong. Yeah, that was it.

Lucky for me, the show started with a very, very tall man on stage wearing a ridiculously tall hat. In fact, I'm not sure which one was more ridiculously tall, but dear god! As he started to talk giving a brief history of the Cirque, my smile grew and grew until it hurt. Even though I didn't look since Steve was to my left, furthest from the stage, I knew he was doing the same. At the end of his – Mr. Tall was his name – speech, his dark eyes shifted ever so slightly and suddenly I felt the weight of them.

I almost choked on simple air, unable to breathe or think for a moment. When he finally moved off stage, I inhaled deeply as though coming up from a lake. I turned and shot a look at Steve, seeing how his smile had fallen flat like mine. So I wasn't the only one who felt exposed and caught…

My hand darted out and I lightly smacked Steve with the back of it. I nodded sharply to the darkness behind us, the path we had taken to get here. Should we leave? That was the question but the worry was if we had gotten caught or not. His eyes met my and although there was just a flicker of fear, they hardened. No, he would have said if he had been able to speak, we came all this way for this. I nodded and turned back, figuring that if they were caught…well, let the "bouncer" escort them out. After all, they were just sixteen, soon to be seventeen, so they could play off the Ignorant Youth card.


	4. Chapter 4

Even though we weren't in the first row or even the last row on the ground floor, the show was just as terrifying – and entertaining. Perhaps even more so, since we had nothing but pure darkness behind us…who knew what lurked there, watching and waiting for us? Every time Mr. Tall would come on stage and announce the next performer, I'd feel his gaze flicker over to us. And when he left the stage…I don't know about Steve, but my back would straighten and tense as if I felt him behind us. I never dared once to turn around though.

Once, in between the Limbs man and another, I had turned just a little to look at Steve with wonder, awe, and amazement in my gaze…but I saw something. Steve looked the same way I did, his face lit up like I rarely saw it in this small town, but I saw something behind him. It was just the slightest shift of the curtain that had been pulled back for the seats. Just a nudge, really, as if someone had been touching it and jumped back suddenly. I swallowed thickly, feeling sweat run down my neck. I adjusted my backwards hat as if it was silently saying I was brave, I was a punk…but I scooted to the edge of my seat. Better to jump over the balcony and end with a broken leg than be eaten…especially if it was by the Wolf Man. I shuddered.

My dark thoughts went away though when the next performer stepped on stage. He wore a beautifully brilliant red outfit, cape and all. I leaned forward, my hands resting on the balcony as I tried to get a better look. I even brushed my bangs back from my eyes. His hair was obnoxiously red and his face, even though distant from me, held a scar…it took my sluggish brain to process. I had to dig past what happened last night, the marriage order and all, and get back to yesterday afternoon. And when it hit me, I gasped ever so slightly and spun around to look at Steve.

He, too, was just as pale as I must have been…perhaps worse. It was the same man who had given me the flyer in the alley, I wanted to shout! But…wait. Steve had never seen the guy before; he was gone by the time we went to the alley to check. So…why was Steve so pale?

Did I just see something from the curtains again?

My grip on the balcony tightened to where it lightly groaned, threatening to break. I quickly let go and looked back on stage. So far no one (that I could see) had noticed the noises from the seats above them…good. I willed myself to enjoy it, to focus on the stage. Yet as soon as I did, I regretted it. A spider!

I wanted to kick Darren for leaving us mostly because I knew I'd never be able to describe this large spider's beauty in justice. Darren loved spiders as much as Steve loved vampires…it always made for easy birthday and Christmas gifts over the years (another reason mother didn't like my male friends). I willed myself to stop feeling so nervous, so on edge. After all, I reasoned, the huge ass spider was waaaay away from me!

It certainly helped with the man…what did he say his name was….Mr. Crepsley started to play the flute. The spider, Madame something or another, wasn't the only one pleased or hyponotized by the lovely noise. While she performed her tricks, looking obnoxiously stunning in the light, I felt my muscles relax. My mind even started to unwind, if that were possible. I leaned closer from the edge of my seat, my heart beating strong but pleasantly. Every breath I took felt like I was inhaling a part of a cloud, Heaven or something. Before I knew it, I had stood and had the balcony ledge against my thighs. The music…that sweet, calming music that took away all my fears and worries about the marriage, about my family, about how I would tell my friends about it all…

The spell – for what else could one call it? – was broken violently when Steve grabbed my forearm and yanked me down. Not down on the seat again, but down-down to where we crouched in the balcony, hidden to all. Luckily the dull thud on these worn out, old floors were masked by the crowd's gasps and screams – the spider had jumped into the audience. Feeling as though I had just been pulled out of a dream, feeling quite overwhelmed, I took a second to collect myself. There was no way I'd cry in front of Steve! It was as though the flute had physically taken all my negative thoughts from my mind and memory…and when I had been brought back to reality, they all punched me right in the jaw.

"What?!" I hissed, choosing anger instead of the acute sadness I felt to express.

Our faces were merely inches away; I could feel his hot breath on my face. My friend glared hard at me but there was also something else in his scorning gaze…something…I'm not sure. Worry maybe? "The hell was that, Sam?!" He hissed back, taking advantage of the crowd's reactions again to cover our talk. "Do you know who that is?!"

I tried my best to control my fist as I met his sharp gaze. He wasn't quite close to one of his moods – those infamous moods that gave him the name Leopard from his real last name Leonard – but I knew the limit. "Uh, Larten Crepsley?!" I hoped to avoid talking about why I had suddenly been drawn in by a pseudo-siren.

"He's not…" Steve shut up, perhaps because the crowd had gone silent but maybe for another reason too. I stopped paying attention and sat back up, looking out to the stage. The man had the huge ass spider in his mouth…like, on-in his mouth! I almost fell backwards from my chair, my jaw dropped.

Just then, the flute played again…but it wasn't Crepsley's since his was in his hand. No, from the side of the stage walked in Mr. Tall playing the flute. How…how odd, I thought, that I should be enraptured with Crepsley's flute and not Mr. Tall's. Was it the flute or the flute player that had brought me a slice of heaven just then?

I had been so lost in my thoughts that I almost missed it when the spider jumped away and Crepsley licked off the fresh web in his mouth. When it was safe, we all clapped and applauded. I turned back to look at Steve since he should have cooled off by then…but he was just pensive. Thinking hard. I looked away again; I didn't want to get involved.

At the end of the show, or so Mr. Tall claimed to be the end, I looked over at Steve who, lo and behold, still had thinking wrinkles in his forehead. I was just about to comment on how weak an ending the show ended on when I saw the curtain move…and the thing that moved it.

My hand darted out and grabbed Steve's forearm hard enough to bruise it, eyes wide and not even daring to gulp as I stared. When Steve jolted in his chair almost like waking from a nap, about to snarl at me, I held my finger to my lips. Not once, however, did I look away from what was behind him…and what was slowly coming closer to us.

A huge, long (admittedly beautiful) snake.

It slithered around our chairs, almost reaching my knees and it took all my effect not to make a sound. Snakes "saw" sound rather than actual sight…so if we stayed perfectly silent…

Within moments the snake had wrapped itself down the column below us and was now scaring those down below. I exhaled and fell back against my chair, my grip on Steve's forearm slackened but still existing. "Oh dear god, did you…", my sentence trailed off as we saw the snake-boy on stage. Once again, I grew excited while Steve sulked, my hands clapping along with the rest of the people. "Damn they got us good!" I stood and quickly ducked to the curtains, to the darkness so no one would spot me. Steve did the same but as soon as I took a step deeper into the abyss to go to the window, he finally acted.

"Sam, I want you to leave."

"What?!" I could only see the outline of him since he was between me and the dim light of the audience. "What are you talking about? We _are _leaving!" Judging from his tone, I knew there was no 'we' involved…and that terrified me.

My best friend took my shoulders and pulled me close so that way we could at least see each other's eyes. "Sam, go back to my place and go to sleep. I'll be there in the morning. I hope." He muttered the last part almost as if to himself but I heard it.

My hands darted to grab his before he pulled away, refusing to budge. "What the hell do you think you're gonna do? Go talk to Crepsley or something? Ask Tall to join? You aren't leaving me alone Steve!"

"I said go!" He yanked his hands free of mine and shoved me into the dark abyss. "Go back and I'll come home later. I have to take care of something before…go!" And just like that, he set an example that he wanted me to follow…and disappeared into the halls.

After a moment of standing there, hearing the footsteps of the crowd below start to thin out, I whispered, "Steve?" I took a hesitant step forward, whispering his name once more but louder. Although I heard nothing, in fact the last audience member had left now, I felt as though someone or thing was behind me. I swallowed dryly and spun around, seeing…nothing. Nothing but darkness again. This was getting old.

"S-Steve is that you?" I dared to call out again. I didn't want to leave…I couldn't, really. Assuming I could even work my way through the maze we had gone through to get here blindly, I didn't know what was following my footsteps. To leave with Steve as I had arrived would have given me security…

Don't get me wrong, I can throw a pretty mean punch! But dealing with freaks by myself who lived in the darkness…I was at a disadvantage. So my next question, the one that got me angry at Steve instead of frightened for myself, was…what the hell was so important that Steve would just up and ditch me?!

I decided to go the direction that Steve had gone. In case there was something where the window-exit was, I didn't want to know! After several twists, turns, and (ok, ok) running into walls, I found the stairs. Or…rather…I nearly fell and broke my neck. By the time I had all but crawled down the stairs, I heard Steve's voice. I walked closer to the light and found myself on the ground floor. Quickly I ducked in between the rows of chairs and stuck my head out. A few yards away was the stage where a light rest on and on that stage in that light was Steve Leopard.

He was looking around from side to side, his legs trembling and his hands shaking. His lips were parted as if he was gonna speak but nothing came out. I don't blame him…we had snuck in and he was on the stage where any freak could have seen him. Wait, so why did he think it was such a good idea to be on the stage then?!

I was just about to stand out and call to him when someone beat me to it. "Looking for me?" Steve jumped a foot in the air and I barely managed not to knock any chairs over in my surprise. From above fell a body, graceful landing and all…Larten Crepsley, the spider man. "You have quite the nerve, boy, to enter without permission and to even show your face afterwards." So they knew all the time…terrifying!

Steve stuttered – that was a first in the decade that I knew him that he had stuttered! – as his knees knocked. "I-I know w-w-who y-you are!"

Although Crepsley's laugh boomed throughout the empty theatre, I heard nothing past that. Instead I was more absorbed with seeing the flute at the man's belt loop. That instrument that had given me such tranquility, a sensation and state I wasn't too familiar with. If only I could…

"You're a vampire and I want you to make me into one."


	5. Chapter 5

Steve's sudden clear statement snapped me out of my daydream. Since I was on my hands and knees to hide between the rows, my arms started to shake from supporting me. A…a vampire? What was Steve smoking?! And to turn into one…I knew he was obsessed but damn.

I would have scoffed at the notion until I heard the man's reply. "Who sent you?" Wait, Steve was right?! What?! I started to crawl slowly, hoping to make a quick escape if need be. If the man was a real vampire and he found me…

When I looked up again at the end of my row, closer to the exit door, I saw Crepsley spitting out blood! I gagged, the noise covered up with what the man had to shout at Steve next. "You have bad blood! There is menace in your blood! You are evil!" Even though I could only see the side of Steve, I knew, and could feel, that his heart broke. I stopped moving, sat on my feet and looked up as if this were all some sort of sick tragic play before me.

I had just a split second to process what I had overheard so far. Crepsley was a vampire and Steve had wanted to join…but he was evil. And for a good moment there, I felt nothing only because I didn't know what aspect of those three to feel most shocked about. The next thing I knew, Steve flew pass me as he ran up the aisle. The only reason he didn't notice me was because he was laughing in a manic state I had never seen him in before, shouting, "I'll make you pay! I'll grow up and become a vampire hunter! I'll kill you, you'll see!"

Quickly I ducked back down, realizing finally that my entire body was shaking like a leaf. I heard more spitting from the stage…no doubt that monster was trying to rid himself of the taste of "evil blood". What nonsense was that anyway?! Blood didn't have characteristics like that…did it? I knew Steve had his moods, I knew he could be violent when he wanted to…but to go as far as evil? That just wasn't my best friend.

Licking my lips nervously, I glanced up to see Crepsley's back turned to me, meaning he was leaving. Each step he took meant another light turned off; soon I'd be encased in total darkness again! Only this time, I suspect I wouldn't be able to navigate with so many chairs if I couldn't see my path.

I did what he did and at least got an early start. Unfortunately my mind decided to be the boss, not my body, and when it stood to walk silently away in the remaining light…my legs failed me. I had been shaking so bad from the entire night, from the show and, mostly, from the past ten minutes that I had no strength despite the state of shock I was in. So down I went, my hands automatically reaching for something, anything, that they could grab to lessen the fall.

And the only thing they could reach were the chairs that had been set up, the chairs that weren't grounded. My knees hit the floor, a sharp crack in contrast to my cry. The chair I had grabbed tumbled over, knocking the one behind it down and so on like a domino effect. My heart stopped for a good moment and it became quite painful to breathe. Finally, at long last, my mind caught up to my body…and they were both aware of the vampire having turned around to stare at me.

Shit.

I didn't turn around, I didn't want to. I couldn't stand (literally, ha) to see the vampire run at me with his fangs bare and in bat form or something. It would only give him time to capture me, sink his teeth into my neck, and suck me dry. So as quick as I had fallen, although it all felt like slow motion, I pushed myself back up. My body followed commands as best as it could as I started to run. My heart was racing and I could feel the adrenaline take over, I could feel everything else shrinking. Nothing mattered but my survival.

I got a couple of rows in distance; I almost started to feel arrogant that I was going to make it out of there alive. Alas, the vampire must have been playing with me to just see my spunk for no further than the third row did he strike. I felt a hand grab my shoulder and spin me around, my footing thrown completely off. I yelped as I fell back, my hat flying off my head and landing on the ground. Who the hell cared about a hat at a time like this though?! I started to crawl backwards as fast as I could, looking up with sheer terror that I had got caught.

Larten Crepsley, or whatever his real name was, stood above me, slowly advancing…he was the cat playing with his food, me the mouse. That bastard! His face held an expression of almost indifference, a gleam of amusement in his eyes and just a hint of a smirk. "Back off!" Somehow I managed to find the words and the guts to shout at him.

My hands were so filthy from the floor but I hardly noticed it. I had been sweating up a storm and I could feel my clothes stick to me. All in all, I felt exactly how he was treating me: a prey. It was only when he took an extra step closer, a quicker one as if to mock my demand, did I act. I swung around, grabbed a chair by the legs and as I stood, I flung it to make contact with his ugly face!

Only problem was…he caught it. With ease. And threw it behind him as if it were a feather. When it slammed into other chairs, the horrendous crash it made, I yelped without restraint. Now was not the time to play the tomboy card, not to start fighting. My hands went up to protect my face as I kept stepping back, my throat forgetting how to work. I hadn't even realized how he was advancing on me at a stupidly calm pace or how panicked I was until my back hit a column – oh, the one that held the balcony Steve and I were on earlier. Naturally.

Crepsley placed his hands on either side of my head and leaned forward, as if my hands that hovered right before my face weren't there. What was he going to do? He had me cornered in a sense…even without my back against something, he still had the upper hand by, like, a wing span. Would he kill me? Drink me dry? Kidnap me? He was playing with me…had been since I had stupidly collapsed against the chairs. God, how I wish Steve had gone with me to leave after the show. How I wish _I _had gone after the show!

The man stared me dead in the eye, a serious look on his face. He opened his mouth and said, "I see you won the race." At such a sudden and random comment, given the situation, I froze. My hands slowly fell by themselves to my side and I caught a gleam, just a hint of a gleam, of amusement in his eyes.

I tried to speak but looked like a fish, unable to produce words. I tried again…nothing. As my mouth figured out how to produce coherent sounds once more, I took in the situation. There I was against a column, my short, choppy blond hair matted against my face. It wasn't from sweat, I realized with a hint of self loathe, it was a combination of snot and tears. Evidently I had cried somewhere between the end of the show and here. My clothes were filthy and no doubt stunk of sweat, my hands even worse off since I had crawled away. My knees were probably bruised from the fall earlier and had given out once more – the only thing keeping me up was leaning against the column. And before me, right in front of me by a foot, was a vampire. A pale, scarred, orange haired vampire dressed in brilliant shades of red…with a flute at his side. He wasn't just in front of me, he was leaning forward, close to me without touching me. And he was the perfect picture of poise and grace, especially compared to me. Dear god, I thought with dry humor, what a pair we must make right now!

"S-Steve will realize I-I'm missing." The words tumbled out of my mouth, my voice cracked from both a lack of beverage, fear, and, well, crying. I tried to calm down; I tried so hard to bring myself back to a level of coherence. The vampire was playing with me, that comment of his made it even more apparent. "He'll…he'll call the cops." It was a prayer. It really was. And what did it matter since I'd be dead by then? When he stared at me for a moment longer, I tried one last desperate measure. "My blood is evil too."

At this, Crepsley threw his head back and laughed with his mouth wide open. I tried not to look at where I thought I saw fangs. I flinched and tried to make myself small, my shoulders raised almost to my ears…like a turtle. At the end of his laugh, he looked back down at me and smirked. "Eavesdropping is impolite, has no one ever taught you manners?"

My mind instantly went to my mother…oh god. My family, they'd never see me again! I must have looked even worse than I already was, for Mr. Crepsley took pity on me and stood up straight. Now without him leaning close to me, I slowly slid down the column and onto the ground. I wasn't sure the correlation there, but it made me feel better. Well, sort of. "What…what are you going to do to me?" I almost wondered how no one else had heard this ruckus. I almost wanted to be morally outraged at how no one came to my rescue. But then I remembered that we were at the Cirque, they were a family, and I was threatening their safety and peace. If anything, they might be in the shadows cheering Crepsley on to take care of me! Steve and I had not only put Crepsley's safety in danger at announcing his nature, but the Cirque itself.

When I felt my strength had returned, even a little, I forced myself to stand back up. I stayed against the column though for support, even if it made me more of a target. "Please, I won't tell anyone that you're a vampire." The word left my lips as though it were a foreign language, one of which I had just slaughtered by trying to pronounce.

Crepsley studied me for a moment as I collected myself. Now that I knew what I was dealing with, as opposed to sheer unknown mystery, I was able to bring myself back around. He looked intrigued and perhaps a little disgusted…pity? I couldn't tell the difference. He stroked his scar on the side of his face, thinking. "It would not look good for me to do something with you when I allowed your boyfriend to leave unscathed."

I jumped but not from fear this time. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, back right the hell up!" I waved my arms around me in a furiously fast manner, making no sense or reason of it though. "Steve is _not _my boyfriend, alright? No. No, ew, no, he's like a brother! I've known him for a decade…not like…that's a long time for you. But for me it is!"

There was that gleam of amusement in his eyes again. His grin was tight but it existed. "That is enough. If I let you leave, leave knowing that the consequences for revealing my secret are grave!" I couldn't quite figure if he meant literally or figuratively…or if the figurative language could leave to the literal translation of it.

Either way, I nodded twice. "I won't, I swear!" Wait, the voice in the back of my head spoke up, how would he know? He couldn't watch me all the time…well, not in the daylight at least. "I have no reason to, really!"

He studied me for another moment though it felt like an hour. I hoped I looked truthful, I hoped I didn't raise suspicion. I had stopped crying, stopped panicking, stopped breathing heavily and freaking out. Now I just watched him as he watched me. And suddenly, on their own accord, my eyes shifted down to his belt. No, not _below_ it! To the _side_ of it! My eyes must have brightened with a lighter shade of green when I saw the flute.

That thing that had given me such relief, such escape…I wanted to hear it again. Just one song of it earlier and I was hooked. Crepsley caught my gaze and followed it, his eyebrow raising high in perplexity. He freed it from his belt loop and held it out to me. "I…can't play." I whispered softly, almost forgetting who was offering it to me. As if I was really considering taking it.

The vampire grinned even wider, a few of his teeth showing. Had I seen it, I would have slipped away, but I didn't. I was too busy staring at the little flute in his outstretched, large hand. "Learn. Take it. Since you did not get a sovereign from the balcony seats," I felt my face warm at being exposed, "take it. Use it a reminder to never reveal my secret."

I had started to like the idea of having that little flute, praying that it was the flute itself and not the player that had calmed me so much earlier. Alas, the last part that Crepsley mentioned brought me back to reality, the threat making me shiver. Still, my hand reached out without thinking; damn the war of mind and body, with body winning at each battle. When I felt the cool metal instrument in my hand, I shoved it in my pocket and looked up at him.

I couldn't thank him. Literally, I couldn't form the words.

Crepsley took a step back, silent as well. He was saying to leave. Who was I to disobey?


	6. Chapter 6

My feet carried me to the right place; finally I could trust my body to do something right without my instructions. I was very aware of the flute in my pocket. Why had he done that? Was it really to serve as a reminder? What if it wasn't the flute itself, but the flute player (i.e. him) who had brought me into such a hypnotic state…what use was it then except a tortured reminder of the peace I'd never have?

When I reached Steve's house, I slipped in through the front door and didn't stop until I entered his bedroom. By that point, I was panting heavily and had to stop for a moment to catch my breath. When I looked around to realize there were no lights, I wondered if he had gone to bed somehow. After the darkness we encountered in the theatre, this didn't scare me. "Steve?" I stood and brushed my hair back – no, my hat! I had left my hat back there! No doubt I'd never get it back now; I didn't think they had a Lost and Found anywhere in the Cirque. "Damn it, my hat!" I whined before turning the light on.

There was Steve on the bed alright, but he wasn't sleeping. He had been weeping and at the light being switched on, he quickly turned away and tried to wipe his face. I stared for a long moment, unable to believe what I was seeing. It wasn't that I found it disgusting or shameful or even silly. It was just…well, I have never seen him cry before, not even when he broke his arm a few summers back. It was worse, the feeling of empathy, to know what had been said to make him break down.

"Steve…" I whispered as I stepped forward. He heard the shuffle of my shoes ran his sheet over his face as a quick cover.

Then he turned around and snapped, "I'm fine! Where were you? How come I got here first?!"

I could see that look in his eye and knew that twisted frowned (almost like a growl) on his face all too well. He was so close to just giving into another fit, another mood. I knew I'd have to leave – no one handled Steve's moods that well – and it would just ruin the entire night…as if the vampire hadn't already. Desperately, I tried to stop it. "It doesn't matter…come on, let's go grab some food from the freezer and sit on the roof. Does that sound good?"

I went to the door to open it. There was another reason that I wanted to open the door, to get him downstairs. I wasn't too terribly scared of him reacting badly, but I knew wide open spaces (well, wider than his room) might help calm him down. It always worked with me when I was in a bad mood.

But as soon as I got to the door and opened it an inch, a hand darted forward and slammed it shut. Deju vu, I thought, as Steve leaned over me like Crepsley had at the column. The difference, besides the obvious nature of the two, was that Steve had one hand on the side of my head, not two. I wasn't _entirely_ boxed in. "Where were you?"

I stood up straight and met his gaze, my chin up and defiant. Temper or not, he wasn't a vampire, he wouldn't kill me, and I was tired of being cowardly. "Steve, step back and let me out. I'm going to get some food. If you want something, I can get it as well."

He gritted his teeth and punched the door, making me jump in the air, before turning away and going to the window. After a moment of collecting myself, I slipped out and went to the kitchen. I was trembling but I chalked it up to being scared of the dark, not frightened of Steve. He would never hurt me after all.

After I got a couple of ice cream bars, peaking out the window to see the backyard was clear, I started to head upstairs again. Yet I paused, spotting Steve's mom's liquor cabinet. It was open. She must have forgotten to close and lock it. Well…a little thing of rum wouldn't hurt, would it?

By the time I got back to Steve's room with the wrapped ice cream bars in my hand and a water bottle of a few shots of spiced rum in the other, I wondered if he had calmed down a little. I slipped the water bottle in my bag and walked to the window, slipping out to see Steve already on the roof. "It's…really nice weather." I commented as I handed him ice cream. How awkward, I thought, that we just saw the most amazing show ever…and we couldn't even talk about it.

I unwrapped my treat and started to nibble on the edge when he spoke. "How did your hands get so filthy? And where is your hat?"

I stayed still a moment, my teeth starting to ache from the cold ice cream. Finally I took a bite and chewed thoughtfully, weighing the options. I could lie to him…but when he didn't believe me and threw a fit…well, we were on a roof. "I didn't want to leave by myself, not down the dark way we came. I felt like some…thing was there. So I followed you and hid in between the rows of chairs." Now was the chance to come completely clean, to tell him everything that happened after he stormed out. But…but I didn't. I don't know why but I wanted to keep that part to myself, my own secret. "That's how my hands got so gross…when I left, I almost fell against the chairs and my hat fell off."

If ever an awkward moment existed between us, this was it. "You," he paused as he fiddled with his ice cream bar, just moving it in his hand, wrapped, "you don't…you heard it all. And you're still…here."

I took another big bite of the bar, thanking whatever heavens there was that I had such a great disguise of thinking. When I finished the bite, I knew what to say now. "You're not evil, Steve." It was the first thing I said – not that, oh hey you played I Spy the vampire and won. "Maybe…I mean, he's an old fart. Maybe he has a different idea of what 'evil' is. Like old people who say rock'n'roll is evil!" I looked at him with a stupid grin on my face, aware that there was a small part of me that did not believe that. "Or that women wearing jeans are evil…says my mother." I muttered, and then froze; I forgot to tell him about the marriage!

"You're not upset that I wanted to become a vampire and leave here? Leave school and home and Darren…leave you?" His voice was a bit calmer but it was still tinged with worry. I could see from the corner of my eye that he was tense.

Instead of copping out and taking another bite of the treat, this time I stayed silent. I thought it over and then turned to face him. "I don't blame you for wanting to leave," thinking of my own situation, I spoke the truth, "I'd leave this place too if I got a chance. A choice of my own to make, not someone else's."

At long last, Steve unwrapped his ice cream and devoured it quickly. I smiled a little and finished mine off, leaning back to lay on the roof with my hands behind my head. I looked up at the little sliver of a moon and sighed, trying to relax. How could I though? Tonight I had purposely evaded my "fiancée" at dinner, I was going to get married to a stranger, and, possibly worse of all, there may have been a vampire watching us. When I shifted, I felt the flute in my pocket quite acutely, tempted to take it out and play it. Maybe it would calm me again.

"What do you mean 'not someone else's choice'?" Steve was as sharp as ever no matter the chaos we had just gone through. Now I shifted uncomfortably.

Clearing my throat, I sat up and started to play with my shoelaces. I couldn't meet his eyes. "Well…you know how my family is, like, flat ass broke right? Like, not even for college? My mom…proud as she is, doesn't want me to get a job at a fast food joint – the only job around this town that would hire a high schooler. So um…she…has it set up to where, in a few months, I'll be…marriedtoarichstranger."

It took a good moment for Steve to understand me and, I think, even register what I meant. And another long moment to realize I wasn't joking. I must have looked miserable enough to prevent him to think I wasn't pulling his leg at first. "What?!" He turned to face me, "You shouldn't have to if you don't want to! That's stupid!"

I nodded glumly. "Believe me, I know…I agree…but my family needs the money. I was supposed to have dinner with him tonight but clearly I didn't go. That's why…"

"That's why you came over yesterday…and why you skipped school!" Clever boy, he caught on quick. "There has to be another way! Just go get a job or something! Don't marry this guy, whoever he is!"

I was quiet for a moment, unable to look him in the eye. Finally I spoke, soft as the wind that blew. "Steve…I have to admit, it…it would solve…so many problems. For my father, my sister…my mother…myself. A minimum paying job wouldn't solve anything. It might help pay a bill or two, but to spend my entire life like that? Just…just working for scraps? If this guy is…nice and…rich then…I have to."

It was quiet again, longer than before. I'm not quite sure where or when I had come to that realization – but very possibly during that flute solo Crepsley had. Just as I started to look up, to see what Steve was thinking, he reacted. He stood on the roof and shouted down at me, "You're just gonna give up?! Just like that?! You're gonna sell yourself to some man because of money?!"

"Steve, calm down." I didn't want to wake the neighbors.

"No! No, you're stupid! You know what that makes you?!" His face was red now, that much I could tell. "It makes you a whore!"

I stood up fast and moved without thinking. My fist suddenly connected to his jaw as I stood, a cheap shot but it was impulse. He flew back and I snarled, "I am NOT a whore! Get the hell over yourself, it isn't happening to YOU!" Part of me must have been aware of how dangerous this could have gotten, fighting on a roof. So I ducked into the window, grabbed my stuff with the rum inside it, and stormed out.

I'd rather risk it back at home than stay there.


	7. Chapter 7

When I had gotten home the following afternoon, I was horrified to hear that my plan didn't quite work. That is to say, my mother had guessed I would skip out on dinner and told me the wrong day! Instead of it having been Friday, like I thought it was last night, it was tonight…and I was home, caught and all. I think what little bit of hope I had left just kind of fell and shattered, honestly. My mother knew me well and had proved it.

So I spent the day in my room, pacing and thinking. Even though I had come to accept that it was for the best, I still didn't like playing the part of a martyr. By the time evening fell, I had completely forgotten about the vampire, Steve, and even the flute in my pocket. I was more distracted (and horrified) with the thing that my mother told me to wear: a pink dress.

Dear. God.

If it had been on anyone else, I'm sure it would have been fine and lovely…but it wasn't. It was on me. Oh how I itched for my hat back! Once I looked presentable – whatever that meant – I stepped downstairs and held my breath. There was my fiancée to be.

The dinner was a blur in my mind; I don't even remember eating anything. All I did remember is staring at Mark as he talked about himself. Constantly. Nonstop. It was hell. Even my father started to nod off and would have too if my mother hadn't jabbed him. Mark wasn't too bad looking, but he was older for certain…and just…so distant from me. I mean, we were on separate planets and he was only aware of his own pull.

By the time it ended, I had quietly walked back up to my room. I knew my sister and father wanted to talk to me, to cheer me up even, but I had avoided them all day and now into the night. What could I say to them? Everything would be awkward. And truth be told, I just needed time to process it all. Alone. No Steve, to Jaime, no dad…just myself…and that flute.

It was well past dark by the time I got into my room and locked the door. I went to find my jeans from earlier, pausing to open the window. I wouldn't run off…but it felt nice to have the wild wind breeze into my room. Such a tease!

When I found the flute, my hands were trembling. I was excited to see, to feel what I had last night. I kicked off my stupid wedges and went to the window, sitting at the edge. I licked my dry lips and wrapped them around the flute, my arms shaking. When I inhaled deeply however, my body stilled just long enough for me to try and play something.

….Nothing. There was no effect no matter how close I got to the song that Crepsley had played yesterday. My body started to shake again as I stared at the little silver thing in my hand. Thank goodness I had been sitting on the edge; otherwise I might have fallen back. This…this flute didn't work. It didn't do what I wanted it to do. I was no calmer than before, perhaps even less so. With a touch of horror, I realized that it had been the flute player, not the song or instrument itself that had hypnotized me last night.

Suddenly the flute burned in my hand and I felt a spike of rage, a pale imitation of Steve's fits. I grunted as I heaved the flute out the window, scowling. I spun around and went to my bag under my bed, the one I had brought back from Steve's house. In it I found the bottle of rum I had taken from his mom's cabinet.

If the flute wouldn't take my mind off reality, then this would!

* * *

And so it did. Here I am now…three hours later and an empty water bottle that hadn't contained water in quite some time. I was half in the house and half out, partially sitting on the roof as I sang quietly to the radio that was playing on my nightstand. I could see everything with a slight blur when I moved…that is to say, when I looked at something, there was a slight lag. Oh yes, I thought, I wouldn't mind living like this. And with this rich stranger, perhaps I could!

I flinched a little, remembering what Steve called me. I hugged myself, refusing to admit how much that hurt me. Out of all he could have lashed out at, why did he pick me? I rubbed my arms, startled to realize finally that I was still in my dress. That stupid pink dress! Scowling, I stood on the roof, wobbly but smart enough to lean back against the window.

There were no sleeves on this thing other than the slit opening of lace on the shoulders, the window chilled against my arm. It reached just below my knees, mere fabric with a lace design over it. Had it not, the bruises I got from crawling last night would have been evident. And although I didn't like to admit it, it dipped just enough to show a hint of cleavage…and I liked it. The 'v' in the front was matched in the back, making for a very uncomfortable outfit on a chilly night like this.

I was about to go inside and change but…I paused, looking around. I grew up here…and I had to leave…when? I forgot to ask. I didn't want to. I suspected it would be shortly after graduation. Great, so a year left…less, actually. No doubt it would be peppered with visits from Mark.

I shivered and looked around sharply…as sharp as I could in my drunken state. I grabbed hold of the window behind me, refusing to fall. What was that though? There was a noise nearby…wasn't there? I frowned and wasn't sure if I felt someone watching me or not.

My mind went from thought A to Thought 4. I didn't know why, it made sense that it all didn't make sense, but it went to Crepsley. That sadistic vampire! How dare he give me a flute that didn't work! Er, wait…was that the rum talking?

"Bastard." I hissed as I looked up at the moon above. It was almost a full one, bright enough to illuminate me and a bit of the yard. Where was that instrument thing anyway? I couldn't see any sparkles or flashes of the silver flute…did I throw it further into the woods? I mean, I knew my arm was good but not _that_ good!

What would he do, I wondered, if he knew I had tossed his "gift" to me? What would he do if I told everyone that he was a vampire? The thought struck me so suddenly that I wobbled. He would either kill me or take me away from here…as his assistant! It was like my veins had been flushed with ice cold water, the excitement and realization, the possibility of it all coming to front. Either way, I would win: I would be able to leave here on my own accord, not someone else's! And so what if it had been Steve's idea originally? He was "evil", I drunkenly reasoned, and thought I was a whore…why not prove him right (in a sense)?!

How to get the vampire's attention though…

I laughed as the radio played another song. It was so easy, so simple! I took a small step away from the window, my stance wavering though it held. My head tilted back to the moon and my bare arms went out to the side, a smile on my lips. And without fear, without hesitation, without really even thinking it through, I shouted, "Larten Crepsley is a vampire! Larten Crepsley is a vampire! Larten Crepsley is a vampi-oomph!"

I flew. Not off the roof…well, yes, off the roof but in a different direction than the ground. I found myself in my bed suddenly, my body having been snapped forward into a practical "L" so I wouldn't hit my head on the window. The entire room spun and wouldn't relent for a full moment. There was something heavy over my mouth and something far heavier over my body.

When I tried to move my arms, I realized two things: I couldn't and they were warm. When the room stopped spinning at last, I realized with a wave of dread that I was staring into the eyes of the vampire, Mr. Crepsley! He had tackled me through the window and onto my bed directly in front of said window. Within a mere second, he had covered my mouth, pinned my wrists above my head, and settled over me so that my legs wouldn't be able to lash out.

Almost like a joke, the radio kept playing soft tunes in the background.

For one sobering moment, as if fear had just slapped me back into reality, I realized there was a vampire on top of me…the same vampire I had just outed…and no one was none the wiser of the situation. My breathing picked up, the only noise as I had to breathe from my nose in the room other than the music. I could feel panic start to blossom and struggled pointlessly against him, feeling blood leave my face.

Like a statue, he didn't budge, not even when I tried to yank my hands free. It was only when I calmed down – "calm" wasn't the right word, not when I could start to feel my stomach act up – did he speak. "If I let remove my hand from your mouth, will you scream?"

I shook my head slightly, my angry stomach starting to move when I couldn't. When he removed his hand, I turned to the side where my trash can was (thank god) and lost all contents in my stomach. It took that split second for him to release my hands and get off the bed. I turned my entire body to the edge, half on and half off as I threw up in the trash can.

"That," I spoke in between spitting the remains with a grimace, "is what happens," I wiped my mouth with a tissue from my nightstand, "when you hit a drunk at 100 miles per hour." I wasn't sure if it was the vomiting or simply him letting me go, but I felt calmer…way calmer now.

Ignoring his noise of disgust, I slowly sat up and grabbed an old water bottle – yes, it had water in it – from the side of my bed and gargled before spitting into the trash can once more. When I felt like it, I stood up and brushed off my dress. "Well…that still worked." I looked over at him, unsteady on my feet. "Hi."

The vampire stood at the window, studying me closely. "You are drunk."

"Was." I corrected. "I think most of that just left my system."

"You shouted to the world what I am." It was a statement lacking in tone and emotion, simply just pointing out what I had done. I saw the correlation of his previous statement.

I nodded and immediately regretted it, tilting to my left. I stumbled slightly before I found myself leaning against the dresser. "Yes." I remained standing, leaning, but stared at him. "I knew you'd come. Or kill me first…either way, I would have got what I wanted." Did it take being intoxicated to deal with the vampire so cooly?

He stepped forward, a growl in his voice, "Even though I told you not to speak it?!" He caught it though; he caught what I had said. I saw it in his eyes, the realization of how I had spoken so evenly of my own death. Compared to last night, I was indeed an entire different person – thanks Captain Morgan, I thought bitterly. "What are you playing at, girl?"

I tensed when he stepped closer, old habits die hard. Still, I willed myself to keep my tone firm. "I have a proposition for you, Mr. Crepsley." I pushed myself up from the dresser, trying to stand tall and straight. "You see…I am to be wedded. I have a dress on. See, wedding foreshadow." I waved my hand up and down as if he hadn't spotted the dress before.

"And you saw this celebration cause for drinking, did you?"

"Do not lecture me!" I snapped, slurring my speech. "I don't want to marry. I don't. Not to this….this self-absorbed…I don't know what! I want an out. You happen to be that out." I looked and sounded suddenly quite serious. "You can either kill me…or take me as your assistant. Make your choice."

At this, Mr. Crepsley emitted a deep but quiet laugh, one that would stay within my room. I shuddered at the noise. When he looked at him again, the moon shining on him to make him all the more menacing looking, his eyes looked a bit crazed. Not crazed, but…certainly more vicious than before. Angry.

"This must be a joke," he spat, "a little girl trying to blackmail me? While she is _drunk_ and has just damned herself, she thinks she has the upper hand?" He took a sudden step closer to me, proving a point.

Although I was ashamed afterwards, I helped him prove the point. When he got closer, I lost my pseudo-nerve and jumped back. Had my sense of balance been stable, I would have been able to pull it off; however, I tripped over nothing and fell on my ass. "Do not tell me what I have or do not have as an option, child." His voice was almost as dark as his laugh had been; he enjoyed my reaction so much that he took another step closer.

I kept our distance at least a yard apart, scrambling a little to scoot back. When my hand hit the bedpost, I stopped moving and registered just what I had been doing. I was acting on fear…I was scared of him. That needed to stop if I was to become his assistant. My eyes hardened and I stood, wobbly yes, but that was easily forgotten by the way I took three steps closer to him. Suddenly we were almost touching, my gaze locked on his. "I am not a child. If I were, I wouldn't be making this huge decision. I want you to either take me as your half-vampire assistant," that was what Steve had called it, didn't he?, "or kill me. Right now, right here. If you don't, I'll go out to the streets in the morning and sic the cops on your freak show…where your coffin is."

Even though I was trembling, I could see a new spark in his eyes, one of admiration and amusement. That was good, wasn't it?


	8. Chapter 8

"Hold out your hand." It felt like an eternity on waiting for his answer. My body had been so tense, so waiting for death that I flinched at his command. Still, I had walked straight up to him nearly chest to chest. To shy and shrink away now would just make it all a joke.

So I held up my hand and inhaled sharply when he cut my fingertip. His hand quickly grabbed my wrist and held me still as he let his tongue lap up the blood that had escaped. A shudder so great that my knees threatened to give out went through me. Something about his action just made my skin crawl. It wasn't of disgust, I think, but of…well, and here was the gross part, sensuality.

Oblivious to my reaction, or at least intentionally ignoring it, Crepsley stood back up and nodded. "It is good blood." When he saw me waver in my stance, he scoffed. "How do you hope to be a half-vampire when you cannot handle a simple testing?" His eyes softened though as he stared me down. "The life of a half-vampire is not easy. There is pain, a lot of pain…you can never…"

But me in my drunken state didn't think it through, didn't want to listen after his insult. "My nerves are as strong as steel, you old ox! Now either turn me or…"

His hand moved so swiftly that I choked on the next words. He brought his hand down and on my head I felt a constant, new pressure. When I relaxed my shoulders and opened my eyes, sheepishly peaking up, I realized that he had…placed my hat on my head! "My hat!" I exclaimed, taking it off and looking at it with awe. "I thought I would never see it again…" and indeed I hadn't. It was, I thought with bitter irony, the perfect way to symbolize the loss of my freedom and entrance to marriage.

"If you truly mean to hold me over such a barrel," Mr. Crepsley spoke again to catch my attention, "then hold up both your hands…and do not move until I say so." Even my in intoxicated state, I knew he was being serious.

So I held my hands up as if we were going to high five, trembling though my gaze was steady and hard. When I felt the sharp pain on my fingertips, I opened my mouth to yelp, but the sound never came out. It was his hand, yet again, that had stopped such an alarming noise. His eyes were hard and unsympathetic; his finger pressed against his lips to show silence was required.

When a moment had passed and my heart had stopped beating so wildly, he stepped back and pressed his nails against his own fingertips. Contrary to my near yelp, he merely grimaced and looked up at me, locking our gazes. It was almost like a challenge, a "ha ha, I can handle it, pussy". For a second, I thought of Steve not because I was about to become what he had wanted, but because that was what he would have said.

But I was a "whore". So let me become what he couldn't be.

I stepped forward with renewed motivation and held my bleeding fingertips up again. I wouldn't back down, especially after such a threat and ultimatum. When he did the same, he spoke cooly, "Do not make a sound and do not move until I tell you to. This must be done very precisely or it will end terribly." And with that, clearly being confident in my ability to obey with how determined I looked, he pressed our fingertips together.

I kept my eyes on him, my hat on backwards once more. What was he talking about, making a sound? I didn't feel…and suddenly I felt the sharp, agonizing stab to my heart. It was like his blood was attacking mine – and winning! Just when I thought I couldn't handle anymore, when my body would shake itself to the ground, he pulled back with a hiss.

I stumbled back before falling against the dresser, panting as though I had just sprinted. What was that?! Slowly, ever so slowly, I could feel my heart slow down…but beat stronger at the same time. It was more certain, if that made sense. And the more that time passed, the more I started to sober up – the vampire blood must have "healed" it from me. And the more that I started to sober up, the more I realized how bad of an idea this was.

Just as I opened my mouth, there was a shuffle and knock at the door. Both of us froze, looking over at the door. Softly, ever so uncertain, my sister Jaime spoke. "Sam? Sam, I heard something…are you alright? May I come in?"

"Hide." I mouthed as I opened the dresser, nodding at Crepsley to get in. He gave me a dull look before stepping in, sucking on his fingers as he did. Um, ew, gross. Why? Was he such a baby that he was scared of the closet? When he humored me and hid, I shut the door and whispered for my sister to come in.

Jaime stepped in and shut the door behind her, rubbing her eyes as she did. "Did I wake you?" I asked without a slur in my speech. I sat on my bed which despite having been tackled on it, was relatively neat still.

The young girl was smart and noticed it as well as the window being open. "You haven't been sleeping."

"Nope. I'm a creature of the night – a vampire." Normally it would have been a joke, something to take the edge off of what we both knew was an awkward and tense situation. Alas, a mere two minutes ago made it reality. I swallowed thickly as Jaime laughed, none the wiser. For a split second, I thought I heard shifting in my dresser – could she hear it too or was it my new hearing? "What's up, Jam?" Again, the nickname was another attempt to take the edge off.

When she stepped closer to sit on the bed with me, Jaime froze. "Your hands, they're bleeding!" I looked down and realized that my fingertips were still cut open.

"Uh…" I looked at the dresser for a split second, almost able to _feel _Crepsley's glare on me through the door. Not even five minutes into this nonsense and not only was I regretting it, but I was fucking up left and right! "I…I almost fell off the roof," I half lied, "and had to grab the edge to save myself. I um…well, yeah. Here, let me wipe off the blood." I hid my hands from my sister, for how could I explain away the precise cuts of all ten fingers?

"You should wash that." She muttered as I wiped it off on a used towel. I nodded but said nothing. When enough time had passed, she spoke, "Are you going to do it? Will you marry that guy?"

I felt the words get stuck in my throat. How could I tell her no, that I just took a way out right before she walked in? That my joke from earlier _was _my way out? Could I lie to her? "Do you think I should?"

She crossed her arms and stared down at the floor, what she did usually when she thought about something hard. Finally she shook her head. "No. You and I could get jobs one day. It wouldn't be easy, but we could help dad and mom. I mean, a lot of people do it in this town…what could be so hard about it?"

I smiled with a touch more of gratitude than I thought I'd have at her reasoning. I was relieved that she agreed and that she understood. "Well then, there we go! Now, you should really get to bed before mom wakes up." What time was it anyway?

Jaime smiled a little and nodded, satisfied with my response though I said nothing of an answer. When she closed my door on her way out, I sighed heavily. What did I just do in my rum influenced state? I went to open the dresser door, but as soon as I turned from standing up, I froze.

Mr. Crepsley was right in front of me, mere inches away. Before I could say anything, even think anything, he took my wrists and held them up. Without a word – though it wasn't needed since we both could hear Jaime go to bed – he placed each of my fingertips in his mouth to lick. I shivered as my shoulders let go of all tension and control. I felt like puddy once more.

When he finished, I barely noticed that the cuts were mere scars. "How…"

"One of the many perks of being a full vampire."

"And I'm…what?"

"A half vampire assistant." He looked down at me, the shadows not so dark with my new vision and, therefore, not so scary. "You still do want that position, do you not?"

My eyes hardened and my jaw tensed. "We both know the answer to that." I couldn't go back now. I knew that I was different…I suspected my taste would be different soon too. How was I to hide the fact that I longed for blood while I married that guy? He'd say my cooking was horrible since all my meat would be bloody!

Again, we both went silent. It wasn't out of need but out of observation. I could feel my body start to relax, to lessen as regret filled me and made me heavy. It was only when we both could hear my mother wake and start to get ready for her day did we move. "I will come for you tonight. Say your goodbyes. We will discuss this further when I return." He stepped towards the window, pausing only when he had one foot on the ledge.

I hadn't moved. I just kept staring, processing it all bit by bit. Mr. Crepsley gripped the window as he was about to leave, studying me for another moment before he spoke. "You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, Mistress Ivy." And then he was gone.

It was then I realized he hadn't been silent for the sake of the house, but for reading and deciphering my thoughts.


	9. Chapter 9

Been a while. Sorry about that. I've had the idea for the chapter, but no time or, worse, motivation to write it. Here we are now!

* * *

I had spent an excessive amount of time with my family that morning. Since I was up anyway – and hungover – I made breakfast for dad and my sister, right after mom left for work. While dad and Jamie wouldn't question it, mom would definitely give me a look of questioning. Then again, she had right to be suspicious didn't she? Just…she had no idea how desperate and stupid – did I mention stupid? – I was to get out of the marriage.

After Jamie took off for school, I went down the sidewalk to the high school. So this would be my last day with my family and friends, eh? In my life, this town? It hadn't hit me yet. It could have been from the dreamlike state I was in, from the shock, or just…I don't know. Maybe I was really just heartless, maybe I was just a bitch.

"Hey Sam, wait up!" Oh god…speaking of, it was Steve! I froze not to wait up but because I was just…frozen, shocked. That realization of this being my last day, of what I did…yeah, it hit me just now. It hit me fucking hard too. My heart skipped a beat and I felt like I couldn't swallow.

When I looked over to my side, Steve was next to me, out of breath and sweaty, but smiling shakily. "Hey…do you uh…want to…walk to school?"

This wasn't the Steve I knew. This wasn't even the Steve that had lashed out and called me a whore. "Well, yeah…that's…kind of where I'm going." I muttered, each word heavier and heavier to say. I didn't know what else to say to him though. I couldn't ask him how his night went and I hadn't told him that my mother tricked me into dinner with my "fiancée".

We walked a couple more blocks before he cleared his throat. "Uh, Sam? Here, just, just stop walking." He did himself and it took me a moment to do the same. Was that what my life would have been if I married? Following orders from a man? I almost scoffed – what was the difference in my life with Crepsley as his assistant? "Sam…"

When there was silence again, I scoffed. "Look Steve," it was easier to handle this when I was angry, "we're going to be late to class. Can we just…?"

He shook his head, frustrated with his inability to speak. "No, not yet, I just…we…damn it Sam." Steve ran a hand through his already wild hair – an action that was familiar to the old Steve I knew. Wait, where was Darren? "Look, about the other night…when…when we were on the roof."

"What about it?" My tone was sharp once more. For a moment, I blamed him. I blamed him entirely. He took me to the circus, he mentioned the vampire, he stayed afterwards, he called me a whore, he…

He didn't hold a gun to my head to make me become a vampire. He didn't place the rum in my water bottle. He didn't arrange the marriage for me. If anything, I should feel horrible that I was what he longed his entire life to be – and could never be, because he was "evil". And just like that, guilt washed over me like a waterfall. I didn't even _want _to be a vampire when I was sober…and now look at me.

"I'm sorry, alright?!" Steve did what only Steve could do when confronted with emotions; he rejected them and overreacted. "I didn't mean it! I just got so…so angry when you…you shouldn't have to marry him! You don't even know him! You've never met him! And now you just rolled over and took it…that isn't the Sam I know! You should be with someone your own age, someone like…" he paused, swallowing thickly. "I didn't mean to call you a…you know." He muttered quietly.

God, how did adults deal with these emotional roller coasters every day? I went from bad, to upset, to angry, to guilty, and now I was angry again. "A what, Steve? A what?! You can at least say it when you're calm as when you were angry! Come on Steve, say it!" Say what caused me to get drunk and make a deal with a foul, student vampire! I wanted to scream it so bad. "Call me that word again! Say you're sorry for saying I was a whore!" The last part I did scream…and it caused a few people to glance out their shop and house windows.

I spun around, flustered and hearing the blood rush through my ears. I couldn't handle him, not today. Even if it was my last day, perhaps it was better to leave him alone. If he found out what happened, he'd never forgive me. He'd have the right to be angry at me now, not the other way around. Just as I took a step away though, Steve reached out…and I wished he hadn't.

Because as soon as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me around, I panicked. He glanced down when I tried to pull away, no doubt surprised at himself for acting on such a violent impulse yet again, but froze in his "self-aware remorse". My fingertips were scarred. They were scarred in the way of the vampire. And here before me was the vampire expert…fuck.

The silence around us was deafening. I felt my body go slack for a second before I recalled how to breathe, to hold myself up. "Steve…"

"How…how could you?!" He hissed darkly, his grip tightening on my wrist though his face only changed by a millimeter. "You…how did you…he…you're a vampire!" He threw my hand back at me as if it were tainted, as if he had burned himself. I stumbled a bit and stared, uncertain what to say. "You betrayed me! You went to Crepsley and had him turn you! You…"

"Steve, stop. I was drunk, he…" oh god, that didn't sound any better. "I didn't mean to…he just…appeared on my roof and…" fuck, that was worse! "Steve, listen. I didn't do it to hurt you. I had to get out of the marriage and…"

"No! No, you were getting back at me! You knew that I've wanted to become a vampire ever since I was little…you knew, you heard what he said to me after the show! How could you summon him, how can you…you traitor! You summoned him! You planned this entire thing after the show didn't you?!" Steve's thoughts, like his emotions, became more and more paranoid and made less and less sense.

"What!? No, of course not! It wasn't…"

"You really are a whore!" He snarled at me, my eyes widening when I realized he was in full-rage mode. He didn't stop at that, not like before. He went on with the name calling, with the threats, the scowls and even spat at me.

By the time I regained consciousness and awareness again, I had tears in my eyes. That…that bastard. I blinked and turned, walking away this time. "Stay away from me Steve." I whispered, knowing he could hear it downwind. "Just fucking stay away from me…"

That would be the last time he ever hurt me…or so I thought.

* * *

My heart was heavy, my head ached, and my mind was fuzzy by the end of dinner. I had said my good-byes as well as I could to my family and friends. When they all had gone to bed, and after I had glanced over at the window enough times to be called paranoid, I went to bed too. I stepped in and started to pack my bag, the tears from early on falling bit by bit. I shoved clothes and pictures and journals in it, even a book or two…anything to keep my mind from reality. It was only when I punched a book into the bag to make it fit, feeling hardly any pain, did I sniff and realize…I couldn't keep running from reality.

Not only that, but a pushy vampire was in the room – had been for a while, I bet. "You are going to _die_; you cannot pack a bag for it."

I stared at the bag for a moment to regain my control, what little was left after today. When I finally looked up, I felt my stomach churn. Crepsley sat on my bed, legs up and arms crossed over his chest. "No, I'm not. I'm running away." I had thought it through instead of listening to history class – after all, I had plenty of time to learn about the Boston Tea Party. "It makes more sense, causes less pain. Arranged marriage, run away, I'm good…"

"It will also allow people to search for you – an annoying little thing that can come back to bite you in the behind." He pointed out smoothly, thinking he had trumped him.

I snorted, having thought that through as well. "Wrong." Oh yes, I certainly sounded arrogant, I definitely felt it…and I knew faintly that he'd get back at me for it later. "My mother is the sort that would be ashamed of my runaway…so she would hide it. She wouldn't look for me. We're good. Like I said, less pain for my family and me. And you…unless you want to dig."

There was a moment where he studied him and I fought to just keep his gaze. If I was going to live with him for the next, gods, thousand years, I needed to get over my fear of him. I needed to assert my independence and stance…at least enough to hold my chin up high most days. "Fine. You know your family best…if you believe that they will be better off and not look for you, you will leave a note and we will leave soon. I trust you said farewell to your friends?" No doubt he was thinking about Steve, referring to the boy I had been with when I first got into all this trouble.

I swallowed thickly and finally looked away, zipping up my bag. When I tossed it onto the bed, watching it tap his foot lightly, I nodded. "I said what needed to be said." I didn't want to tell him that Steve knew, that the clever "evil" boy had found out. God knows what he might do to Steve. "Now can we…"

There was a knock at the door. We both tensed, our gaze looking over. As I went to unlock it, he slipped into the wardrobe – it amused me briefly. I opened the door slightly and stared for a second. "Oh, dad? What…what's up? It's late, I thought you'd be in bed."

I opened the door more for him as he walked in slowly, a cane in his hand. "Sammy…I wanted to talk to you about something while your mother was asleep. This…" he fell silent and stopped moving, his eyes on the bag. "I see you're already one step ahead of me." It almost sounded like a bad pun. "You're leaving."

"Dad, I…"

He shook his head, a small grin on his face though his eyes looked miserable. "I never wanted you to be in this awkward position. I never wanted to see you forced to marry someone just to 'save' your family. Hell, your sister is smart and your mother holds a job…we can make it. We won't make it in jewels and silver, but we'll make it like anyone else in this town." He looked up with a grin. "I wanted to see you marry someone you want…walk you down the aisle to a man I trust and have met more than once."

"What…I mean, what are you…" I swallowed thickly, sensing that he knew this was the end.

"Here, I took some of the 'dowry'…but better in the bride's hands than in the bride price." He placed two crisp hundred dollar bills in my hands. "I want you in a safe place when you rest, use the money to start somewhere else new. You're nearly eighteen; you're certainly able to work at your age."

I shook my head, having not realized once again that tears were falling. My backwards cap was suddenly quite tight on my head. "Dad, no. Take this money and pay some bills, buy some food. I'll be fine. I just…"

"No, let me do this one last thing for my daughter." Now he sounded as sad as his eyes looked. "Samantha, take this money as a wedding gift…and have my blessing to run away, run far, far away from this man. From this town, this world…just go and build your own. You'll do great things."

"D-Dad, I…" I inhaled shakily, sobbing quietly for a moment before I swallowed thickly. When I had it under control, wiping my eyes dry, I looked up with determination. "I'll make you proud." I placed the money in my pocket and hugged him tight, wondering once more what was the worse path: marriage or vampirism. And once again, I blamed Crepsley for making a deal with a drunk, stupid teenager.

When dad pulled away, his eyes suspiciously bright, he cleared his throat. "I'll tell your sister you said good-bye. Don't forget to call every now and then and…have fun. You're young." He smiled tightly as he walked out, limping slowly. I was young…he had no idea for how long.

I started to cry again, everything was starting to really sink in now. I didn't know how long I stood there hunched over, trembling and gasping for air, but Crepsley stood nearby patiently. In fact, I barely even registered that he had stepped out of the closet – ha! – until I finished wiping my eyes. He offered me a tissue as I started to sniffle, silently watching me blow my nose.

"I…I told you so." My voice was hoarse, my eyes burned. "I'm ready." I looked up, startled to see what looked to be a glimmer of sympathy in the vampire's eyes.

He nodded to the bag which I threw over my shoulder, stepped out onto the roof with him. Strange to think that just twenty-four hours before I had stood on the roof, drunk and spinning screaming for the vampire to come. So much had changed…but my sleep deprived state was starting to work against me, fuzziness eating away at my thoughts.

"Hop onto my back. We will flit." Crepsley turned and held his hands so that I could jump on his back. As I started do as he said, I saw movement in the trees down below. It was soft, slight enough to be ignored or chalked up to the wind. It was…it was Steve!

The blood drained from my face as I froze, one leg around Crepsley's waist and the other on the roof. My hands felt cold around his shoulder. "Mistress Ivy?" He spoke softly as he looked over his shoulder at him, knowing his voice would float if he said anything louder.

I knew that if I kept staring where I saw Steve, he would look and he'd…he'd kill the "evil" child. And even if the boy was evil, even if he was a bastard…god damn it, he was still my friend. So I quickly hopped up and cleared my throat. "It's nothing. Let's go."

After we got situated and he warned me not to breathe, he crouched, ready to take off. My gaze shifted from over his shoulder to down below, where I knew Steve could hear us on such a relatively still night. Everyone else I had said goodbye to…except him. I had told him to fuck off…what sort of friend was I to depart on that note? So I opened my mouth and spoke quietly but firmly, confident in my statement.

"I'm not a whore."

And just like that, we were gone.


End file.
